


personal space.

by sleepyimagineer (ocolotes)



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Alternate Universe - No Sburb Session, F/M, Humanstuck
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-20
Updated: 2016-06-20
Packaged: 2018-07-16 04:42:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,253
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7252513
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ocolotes/pseuds/sleepyimagineer
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Personal space isn't a word you know the definition of, not when it comes to him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	personal space.

**Author's Note:**

  * For [a friend.](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=a+friend.).



> Hey guys! I know it's been a while, I hope to get back into writing things soon, now that my schedule's cleared up! This is a bit short, but I felt that it was just long enough to really get my point across!

Personal space isn't a word you know the definition of, not when it comes to him. Slim fingers trace along the broad side of his shoulder, and you feel the feather light touches of his fingers against your ribs through the thin fabric of your shirt. The two of you are entangled among your bed sheets, the pale cream fabric showing an almost alarming contrast to the brightness of his tank top, and a contrast to the dark, richly colored curls that tumble around and frame your face. The only sound that surrounds you is the quiet whirring of your fan, which allows loose strands of hair to catch on the breeze and float away, but not too far. His head rests near your abdomen, the arm that lazily traces each individual rib of yours is slung haphazardly over you. Your own eyes are closed, but you can see so clearly the way he’s sitting, with his head pressed against your rib cage, probably with the fluttering sensation of your heartbeat so clear in his ear. You’ve always wondered what that sounds like. Never have you had such an opportunity, the opportunity to press your head against someone’s chest, certainly not his chest, and allowed yourself to be soothed by the ever familiar sound of a heartbeat, the ever constant thrumming that said it all. That said _‘I’m alive; I’m here with you, and alive.’_

The warmth of his body presses against your side, you’re comforted by his mere presence, the running of his fingers against your skin is soothing, you’ve never been more comfortable in your entire life. Certainly not in public, where the judging eyes of people follow you, scowls and snickering so evident. You wish that the two of you could stay like this forever, just running the pads of your fingers against his skin, feeling him run his fingers over each of the freckles on your shoulders, and the quiet laughter as you try to guess what it is he’s drawing along your spine. You never get it right, but you never really give it much thought anyways. The sun is on the horizon when the two of you find yourselves here, sinking beyond the skyline and turning the sky brilliant shades of blue and violet, right up until the moon replaces it, and the soft glow that slips through the translucent curtains up against your windows, frames the sharp angles of his face and catches on his lashes. He’s picture-esque, equivalent to polished marble. He was perfect in the most imperfect ways, because there was no human alive that was perfect, but in your eyes, he was. You knew not how he felt about you, you could wonder, wonder on and on what went through that mind of his, buried underneath flaxen locks. You’d never ask, your mouth should fill up with cotton or sand and your throat close up before you ever got the nerve to do something like that. So you’d stay, the two of you closer friends than anyone else had ever seen, light brushes against smooth expanses of skin.

You think on it now, it’d become a daily thing, really. Most parents would be worried about their kids being so close, spending so much time with each other, long after the sun went down and your fingers stilled, eyes closed and your faces close. Soft breath would mingle as you slept, but it always seemed that when you woke up in the morning, he was gone again, equivalent to a ghost, or a memory; destined to always go the same. It's quiet once again, the two of you don't say much; you'd grown so close that talking wasn't necessary anymore, and the only sound that fills the room is the faint bass playing of your sister, and the whirring of the fan once again. Your eyes are closed, just as they so often are, and your fingers drag through his hair. You know that he enjoys this, he's told you before. Your other hand is in his grip, you feel him run his fingers over the ridges and bends of your fingers, over the joints and the smoothly painted nails. You're only slightly aware of the way his lips press lightly against the skin between the knuckles of your index and middle finger, just in between where they connect to your hand. Your eyes open, lazy gaze follows to him, where you feel him press another kiss, just between your ring finger and middle finger, the same place again. He must've sensed your gaze on him, because he begins to speak, voice deep and a contrast from the soft interior of your bedroom, from the soft bass in the background, muffled by the walls, and the ever present roaring of your fan. Always the fan.

"I love you." He says, and you feel as though the entire world has shifted, you're in suspended animation, your fingers pausing in their trail along his scalp. He's shifting and you nearly tense as he does so, and your eyes meet. Just as you feared, your throat closes up and you find it hard to swallow, never mind speak. Your thought are on haywire, running away from you as swiftly as they can, leaving your mind entirely blank. Your mouth opens, then closes, and you struggle for words. You can't bring yourself to telling him a lie, to say that you didn't love him too, that he didn't make your entire body become weightless when his fingers drifted too close to your throat as they run through your hair, or that his fingers across your shoulder don't send chills up your spine. You'd be lying, and by god, you were no liar. Words still wouldn't come to you, you still feel his hand on your own, the two of you suspended in time, staring each other down; even if his expression was a bit more intent than your own. It's then, then that you decide on what to do, decide to pull your hand from his hold and lean in, palms pressing against the sides of his face, softly; as though you hoped not to hurt him, and you kiss him. You kiss him with the intensity of any word you could have said, and still it wouldn't have been enough to express what you were thinking, it wouldn't have been enough to express what you were feeling, and you're so caught up that you barely noticed the brushing of his hand against the back of your neck, or that he was kissing you back. 

It feels as though the two of you are much older when you pull away, as though one hundred years had passed in the meantime. He watches you for any sort of reaction, you know that look, and you can't help but laugh. It's a soft, delicate noise as though you're unsure of whether or not you wanted it to escape you. Your hands are still against his cheeks, faces just inches apart. You lean in, forehead pressing against his, and you close your eyes, a soft sigh escaping you, and you smile. You're happy, content to be as you were, and you nod slightly. It's not much, what you say after, but you feel that it's fitting, after the way you'd already shown him how you felt. It's almost cliche, really, to be sitting here with your best friend, but there was nothing wrong with cliche, not now.

"I love you too."

**Author's Note:**

> So, with this piece, I really wanted to focus on detail, rather than plot, and so yeah! It was just supposed to be a light, fun thing I wrote that I based off of a roleplay I'm having with a really dear friend of mine, and the idea has been in my head for so long that I was worried that the piece just wouldn't stick together! It doesn't have much substance in terms of dialogue and things like that, but I was really going more for the detail, substance on the setting, on their appearance. So yeah! I really hope you enjoyed, and I should definitely be back to writing soon!


End file.
